Half dead, still alive
by DragShot
Summary: He always felt like something was dead inside him, an empty space filled with an unknown hatred. Now he has to face what it seems to be the end of the known humankind, under the wrath of the zombies. Will Zeck be able to survive or his apparent lack of mood will end betraying him?
1. Prologue: Where it all begins

Well, hello there everybody. Before we get started, I would like to tell you some things... don't worry, it's not that much. This is the very first fanfic completely written in English I'm making, and due to me not being a native speaker in such language it might not be perfect in terms of grammar or redaction (if you find errors, please report them in the reviews section or via PM so I can fix them as soon as possible, as I have no beta readers for now), although I'll do my best. It's not meant to be very long, I just want to test how well I can do here, writing a story set in one of my favorite games: Left 4 Dead.

The story will be written in first-person, narrated by the protagonist, and will show what he is going to have to pass through since the first confirmed case of infection in the town where he lives; in a trip that may take even more than one life.

With nothing more to say, here we go.

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><p><strong>Prologue: Where it all begins<strong>

- **¡You're going to be late again! ¡Come down here NOW!** - is heard from a certain distance, like downstairs to be more accurate. It is a female voice.

- **Hmm...** - Suddenly wakes up - **Oh, crap.**

Late. Again. With the alarm set to sound not just once, but twice, with a reasonable interval of one minute considering the hard it is for me to get up early. Why does this stuff happen to me when it is really something important? Dammit! Well, I better don't loose more time.

At least mom was there as a last-measure option, but she can get really annoying when I get late for something. Just like, anything I get to tell her I'm into, no matter how important it is or isn't. Who cares anyway? University is first.

After a quick clothes change, I rushed downstairs to have breakfast, then I went out to find a bus with a tiny hope of at least not arriving that late this time. A kinda false hope, I have to admit, but it's enough to keep me focused in what I have to do.

Yeah, my life before the infection was pretty common for a 19-year-old guy. Except for the fact I hated it. I don't know why, but I was more or less like that kind of people that hated most of the stuff in their life due to some childhood problems they never got to overcome with time, which where just left to be forgotten, but somehow they never faded out completely.

Back to what happened that day, when I finally arrived to the classroom, I didn't found nothing else than the usual: the class had begun some minutes ago and the teacher had ended the introductory part. That one that makes the whole session a bit interesting, and the difference between a worthy class and a unproductive, wasted day for me. Ok, ok, I don't arrive late to class everytime (otherwise I would have lost lots of courses) but I do, let's see... like 60% of times. That's enough to find myself in a complicated situation in what respects to attendance, and make people look me as a man that will be tardy for almost anything.

The only thing that really called my attention that morning happened during the break. Some classmates were hanging around together, forming a circle, and seemed to be talking about something they were worried about. I sneaked in to hear what is was all about. It's not like I usually do that, but this seemed serious enough.

- **What you heard. It was on the news this morning.** - said a tall tough guy with a yellow t-shirt, jeans and a brown cap.

Something on the news? That means I could have found out of that before if I had time to turn on the TV this morning.

- **Well, this certainly begins to seem less bullshit and more real.** - replied a white-skinned girl, she was medium-sized and had red hair. - **First the case of that man whose face was eaten on a highway, and now we got crazed man trying to kill everybody with a baseball bat and bites, who supposedly was dead since days ago. And those are only nearby cases.**

- **You guys think this may be some sort of new mental illness?** - asked a short boy with dark hair, wearing shorts and a squared dark green shirt - **I don't think that last man was really dead. He could have been just fake dead, you know. Like those people that fall in a very deep comma that seems like a brain death, and then somehow come back all of sudden.**

- **Only God knows for sure, Carl.** - concluded the first guy - **Although, I've been thinking... not to take it very serious, but...** - the rest looked at him intrigued - **what if all of this is the... start of a zombie apocalypse?**

- **Ah, there you go again, Kevin** - said the redhead, at the same time she did a facepalm.

- **Being honest, it kinda looks like the beginning of one, but I don't think so brodah.** - added Carl.

- **All that stuff of zombies are bullcrap, boy. Get it over with already.** - said someone else. He looked as tall as Kevin, but thinner. He was wearing a dark purple hood and some sort of sport pants that looked too old to be used in public.

- **Shut the fuck up, Fergus.** - replied immediately Kevin with a monotone voice. It seemed like being annoying was something usual in such person called Fergus.

- **Hey there, Zeck.** - greeted the redhead girl to me, making me the focus of attention for some seconds.

- **Oh, hi Ellie.** - I replied. Being called out all of sudden felt pretty annoying, but I don't get mad with friends.

- **So, worried about the news too?** - she asked.

- **Well, whatever this is, we couldn't be more screwed I guess.** - I said while scratching my head.

- **Come on, Zeck.** - said Carl friendly- **Don't mess with our luck again, dude.**

- **Yeah, there's no need to, bro. **- we laughed a bit, as we didn't know yet what was incoming.

- **You guys are all freaks.** - concluded Fergus.

- **That's fine, mate. Nobody really cares though.** - I said back. He sighed and went away, murmuring something. He used to be a problem during elementary school, but now he doesn't seem to be more than a loser. Considering that was how he used to call me back then, I find it ironic.

We went back to the classroom. Yet again, nothing interesting happened until late in the night.

I had went out to buy some bread for tomorrow's breakfast. Then I saw a short man with clothes that seemed to have been ripped apart, covered in dirt and blood. He walked (or something) slowly, growling a bit.

- **Is this one of those YouTube jokes?** - I asked to myself.

The growls became louder, and the man charged against me. I was still suspecting of a joke, but I was not going to be part of it, so I pretended to look scared until the last second, then I quickly moved away and punched him right in the face, making him fall to the ground.

- **Fair try, mate.** - I taunted.

The man tried to get up, but I hadn't finished with him yet. I always wanted to return a joke to one of those geniuses, and this was my chance so...

- **Ok, I'm gonna beat the hell out of you now, Mr. zombie.**

I grabbed a wooden stick lying nearby and landed him a pair of hits. He grabbed my leg in response.

- **So, you're going serious? Bad decision.**

The next hit went to his head. That knocked him down and the growling stopped.

- **Best luck next time, mate. Nice disguise by the way.**

When I got home, my mother was at the door, looking everywhere outside. She seemed really worried.

- **Oh thanks God, you're safe!** - She exclaimed and received me with a hug. That was unusual.

- **Well, of course I'm fine. I just went for some bread, remember? I do it almost everyday. What's the worst thing that could have happened to me?**

- **You have no idea what's going on, son.** - she sounded deadly serious this time.

That day was my very first encounter with a common zombie, and I wasn't aware of it. I would have hit him harder if I knew. It all started on a street, but well, that happened a while ago, you know.

We are now in hell, trapped in a giant nightmare while we try in vain to come out alive, to survive. Most of people I once knew are disappeared or dead. Zombies of all forms and shapes are out there, trying to hunt and eat us. Everything past is forgotten, buried unlike those undead walkers. We are now just scattered people trying to join together to be able to resist, but soon more people will fall under the infection. Maybe this is really the end of the world. To be honest, I have no idea.

I'm here. That's all you need to know.

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><p>Thanks for reading. Comments, corrections and reviews are very welcome.<p> 


	2. Chapter 1: Lost and Damned

First than all, sorry for the notorious delay. I've noticed the main idea I had for this fanfic was already part of others around here, so I had to think in other alternatives to give it an own identity.

Also, some of the known survivors might appear in this misadventure, like one of them in this chapter. Now, let's begin.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Lost and Damned<strong>

- **There's a bloody spitter around here!** - I shouted, holding an SMG and trying to find such spitter. We didn't need to face yet another ambuscade.

- **Can you guys slow down a bit? My ankle still huts.** - yelled Carl.

- **You should be more careful about where you step on, dude.** - replied a tall white man that looked like a biker, with barely visible shaved hair, a black jacket and both of his arms tattooed. He had an auto-shotgun. - **You're delaying us.**

- **Why so serious, Francis? I thought you said you had everything under control.** - I asked. This biker was a bit annoying sometimes, but he was fine as mate most of times. He was just as lost and damned as any other survivor in the end, I guess.

- **That was before your little friend had the brilliant idea of fleeing from a hunter by jumping off a second floor.** - said the biker.

- **At least I could kill the hunter before it reached him.**

- **Seriously, guys. The last gang I was in didn't last more than a few days.** - complained Francis - **Try to keep alive at least a week, boys.**

- **Alright, you don't need to ask us that twice though.** - I replied, then found a light in the end of the street, at like two squares from us - **Safe zone ahead! Hurry up, Carl.**

- **I'm right behind you, fellas.** - replied my friend from those old times.

One week had happened after that first encounter. Back then, I got to group up with Carl, a biker called Francis and another guy named Jin, although at the moment there were only 3 of us left. Luckily for us, we found some weapons and plenty of ammo between abandoned houses in a nearby town, shortly after our first big escape.

Somebody is heard coughing loudly over the buildings.

- **Oh crap, that's a smoker.** - alerted the biker.

I nodded in response.

- **Somebody please tell me what happened with our martial-arts man again.**

- **He was ambushed by a charger while trying to save your ass, and then he was smashed to death.** - replied Carl.

- **Oh, right. I hate dead ends.** - he concluded.

- **So this makes like 4 things you hate already.** - I commented.

- **Yeah, but at least I don't hate killing all those vampires, so I'm somehow OK with the infection****** thing**.**

- **Zombies, mate. Thery're zombies.** - I said - **Vampires want your blood, but these things just want you dead, infected and brainless.**

The smoker yelled in signal of incoming attack. We all prepared our weapons and tried to descry the special infected. Several commons appeared behind of us, as if they were alerted by it.

- **Great. INCOMING!** - I opened fire.

- **Eat lead you freaks!** - shouted Francis, taking most of zombies down as soon as they approached enough.

I tried to keep alert of the smoker and the previously heard spitter, but as the wave of zombies increased, it become impossible to keep focused in other thing than killing them. So, switching, turns, Francis and I got rid of as many zombies as we could, one of use shooting while the other used the time to reload. Carl assisted us with his pistol, until the smoker made its move and grabbed him.

- **What the frea-! HELP!**

- **Carl! **- I shouted, then turned back to the biker -** Francis, try to keep them busy. I gotta catch Carl.**

- **It'll be a pleasure, kid.**

I couldn't give more than two steps before finding myself blocked by a pool of acid goo. The spitter and the smoker came together, it seems.

- **Holy crapola. Why now?**

- **ZAKE!** - yelled my dark-haired friend.

- **Ok, good thing my running shoes are in good shape.**

I couldn't think in some other way to reach Carl than just skipping over the goo as fast as possible. I just hoped to not lose my feet in the process.

It seems like Carl was on luck today. I could pass through a spitter goo and keep going to reach him and shoot the tongue before it lifted him too high, plus, he managed to land over his healthy leg. A couple of shots more and the smoker fell to the ground, next to us, leaving a big smoke cloud were it was.

- **Man, this kind of infected has the worst smell of them all. Thank you.** - said Carl.

- **You're welcome. Now, let's give Francis a hand or two.**

- **No need to do that, boys.** - Francis appeared suddenly - **I managed to kill all those vampires by myself, using this reliable and always useful shotgun. Which I don't hate, by the way.**

- **Ah, finally some good news. Remember me to grab one for myself in case we find it.**

- **That's fine.** - he accepted.

- **And the safe room is right there.** - added Carl.

- **Phew! Good thing I'm indestructible.**

- **Alright, mates. Let's get in there before more zombies spot us. We don't have unlimited ammo, and we better make it last.** - I said.

Nobody said anything until the door of the safe room was locked and blocked.

- **Hey Carl, how's your ankle feeling?** - I asked.

- **Kinda better. It should be fine for tomorrow.**

- **That's good, because we gotta move out of this city**. - stated the biker.

- **Where to?**

- **The south. Hopefully, the infection hasn't reached there yet.**

- **I doubt so, but meh. There's a chance.** - I concluded -** Now, rest well.** - lights went off.**  
><strong>

- **G'night.**

- **See ya.**

That was basically everything. Humankind as known was possibly lost, but I didn't care that much about it. Anyway, there was a tiny chance for us to get out from here alive... right?

Ok, that's another false hope. I'm just used to them.


	3. Chapter 2: Harsh Exodus

Ok, ok, one week is enough rest for me I guess. Let's continue with this trip to hell.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Harsh Exodus<br>**

We left the safe house the next morning. Francis looked pretty mature and decided this time, something unusual in him because he's more likely to act without thinking enough about it. Well, not this time, and his sudden self-confidence propagated to both me and Carl quickly.

Hordes of infected attacked us at sight, and we wiped them off on our way. We all felt indestructible.

That was until we were close to exit the city.

- **Crap. Road closed.** - or more likely blocked with enormous debris of what seemed to have been once large buildings - **what now, Francis?**

- **Godammit! We'll have to turn back and find another exit.**

- **Hey guys, look up there.** - said Carl

- **I swear, if you say that thing of 'my finger' once again...** - replied Francis

- **No, it's not my finger, it is a-...**

- **Helicopter!** - I finished.

A black helicopter wielding a big light was flying over what was left of the city, probably looking for survivors or something. We all shouted and waved arms trying to get the attention of the pilot. He didn't seem to notice our efforts.

- **Great, the pilot didn't give a fuck about us.** - I concluded.

- **I hate helicopters.** - grumbled Francis.

- **You know what? Now I hate them too.** - added Carl.

We went backwards a couple of squares, looking for another exit. A half destroyed building seemed to be the best route, although we would have to jump from a second floor to get out to the non-blocked side of the road.

The three of us got inside it. We went by several offices, shooting down any infected we found. Fortunately, all of them were commons... except one, that big one.

We were close to the destroyed room that would serve us as exit when we heard heavy steps and the ground started to shake a little.

- **Now what the hell is going on?** - asked Francis.

- **It seems like something big is coming for your ass.** - I replied.

We all aimed our weapons to a small door behind us, waiting for the thing to appear. How big could it be?

The thing appeared to answer my question, for bad. The door and part of the nearby walls were completely destroyed by a 2 and half meters high pink colossus with oversized muscles, which emitted an ear-ripping roar. A bloody Tank, as later I would know it was called. We were all shocked.

- **A-any suggestions now, guys?** - asked Carl.

- **RUN BITCH! RUN!** - I shouted and started the flee, the other two coming right after.

We rushed to the destroyed room, as we had to leave as soon as possible, but that thing didn't even need time to catch us. Francis was its first victim, being tossed off the building towards the road with a punch.

- **Well, at least that solves the part of jumping for him.** - I said.

- **That's great, but how about us!?** - replied a scared Carl, while the tank turned to us slowly.

I spotted a couple of canisters behind the thing.

- **Hmm... Ok, I got an idea.**

- **Oh, no. No other for your crazy ideas.** - replied Carl - **We are freaking dead now.**

- **Then go try luck with that... thing, and kill yourself.**

Although the awkward this sounds, he did it. One shot with my own pistol was enough to hit the canisters, by the way.

- **Meh.** - if I was going to die, I wanted to at least enjoy it -** KABOOM!  
><strong>

The next thing was a big explosion and more debris falling everywhere. Something must have hit me because I don't remember much more.

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><p><strong>BOOM!<strong>

- **WHOA! What the actual fuck?**

What was left of the building was reduced to rubble in from of the biker, who was barely able to stand after being tossed by the Tank from a second floor. He looked for his shotgun and picked it up. Then, he proceed to remove some dirt of his clothes.

- **Ok, I'm sure at least one of them is alive.**

Another explosion came from the debris, launching big portions of concrete near Francis, and a big fireball. Now there were burning rubbles instead of the once half-destroyed building.

- **Oh come on!** - he shouted - **These kids didn't even last more than 5 days, for fuck sake. That's it! I gotta get some people of my age.**

And so, the biker continued his journey, following a road which would take him with other survivors to face this hell with. But that's another story.

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><p>In case anybody out there wonders, no, this is not the end. Zeck is going to face worse things than just being crushed by debris and a tank.<p>

So, yeah, I couldn't come with more stuff for a second chapter, even though I had a whole week of chance. My apologies about that. Hopefully the next chapter I will be able to add more.

Suggestions? Comments? Terrible grammar errors? Spam them all in the reviews section. Thank you very much for reading :) .


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